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Authors: Linda Lee Chaikin
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the Monastery of Poissy, near Saint-Germain-en-Laye.
“Perhaps I can slip away and come here to give you the news of what is occurring,” said Andelot.
“The debates over Scripture and the decisions made there will be of utmost concern, I assure you. Any news you can bring and share will be received gladly. I am told Monsieur Beza himself will speak for the way of grace alone, proving it from the Word.”
Theodore Beza was the primary Huguenot theologian for France and was a close associate of Monsieur John Calvin.
“Yes, and Monsieur Calvin will also send twelve theologians from the school in Geneva. They will bring many writings from the early church fathers and copies of the originals to debate doctrine.”
“We will surely pray that the minds and hearts of those in authority will be opened by the Spirit to receive God’s unchanging truth. How wondrous it would be if our beloved France were shaken to its foundations with the light of God’s timeless Word. Oh, to cast aside the mere outward display of religion that leaves our hearts unchanged!”
Andelot set aside his reservation and threw an arm of brotherly affection around the older man.
“My prayers will follow you wherever you go,” the pasteur said.
The pasteur then bowed his head, speaking Andelot’s name in prayer, and committed him to Christ. The experience of hearing a pasteur pray for him personally in an audible voice was altogether new, and his heart was stirred.
A few minutes later, with the pasteur accompanying him, he walked back to his horse and mounted in silence. I will come back for a longer visit . He lifted his hand in salute, and rode on toward Vendôme.
IN A BUNGALOW NEAR VENDÔME, Comte Maurice Beauvilliers fixed a withering stare on his page.
“You are most certain of this news?”
“Monseigneur, the spy discovered it from one of the duchesse’s own servants. He has ridden through the night to arrive ahead of Andelot Dangeau.”
“Send me this spy. I would hear it from him.”
“He is unconscious, my lord Comte, deep in sleep — ”
Maurice set his goblet down with a snap. “Tell me the news again.”
“Andelot was summoned to visit Duchesse Dushane. What was discussed could not be overheard, but it was about your oncle, Comte Sebastien, and Marquis Fabien. Andelot was sent with a lettre from Madame for the marquis.”
Maurice raised a lean, tanned hand and smoothed his ebony mustache; the long folds of crème lace at his wrist fell leisurely over the burgundy sleeve.
“No doubt the titled fox has protested my engagement to Rachelle. I’ll wager she has sent a reply saying she knows nothing of our upcoming marriage.”
“It would seem so, my lord Comte.”
Maurice’s heart began to pound like a battle drum. “Andelot must not deliver that lettre.”
“Men are stationed along the road to watch for him.”
I must have that lettre. In the hands of the Queen Mother it will become a millstone around Fabien’s neck. And Andelot! That serf that deigns to call me cousin. The intolerable impudence — and after spilling wine on my silk doublet in Oncle Sebastien’s appartement! I warned Andelot I would not forget, and I keep my word. Now he will pay for my insulted honor and ruined silk shirt.
“Saddle the horses. We will ride forth to meet him. I will deal with Andelot myself.”
“By now he should be nearing Vendôme. As soon as he is in sight, word will be sent.”
“I will be waiting.”
News from a Far Country
MARQUIS FABIEN, RESTIVE, MOVED ABOUT THE LARGE SALLE THAT connected to his sleeping chamber. He stepped onto the balustrade and swept a glance about the courtyard. A lavender haze settled gently across the horizon of the forest, and evening shadows lengthened.
He looked toward the tower turret. One of his watchmen stood gazing toward the road and bridge. Farther down the road, settled out of sight within the thick forest trees, he knew there would be another sentry keeping vigil, followed
“Perhaps I can slip away and come here to give you the news of what is occurring,” said Andelot.
“The debates over Scripture and the decisions made there will be of utmost concern, I assure you. Any news you can bring and share will be received gladly. I am told Monsieur Beza himself will speak for the way of grace alone, proving it from the Word.”
Theodore Beza was the primary Huguenot theologian for France and was a close associate of Monsieur John Calvin.
“Yes, and Monsieur Calvin will also send twelve theologians from the school in Geneva. They will bring many writings from the early church fathers and copies of the originals to debate doctrine.”
“We will surely pray that the minds and hearts of those in authority will be opened by the Spirit to receive God’s unchanging truth. How wondrous it would be if our beloved France were shaken to its foundations with the light of God’s timeless Word. Oh, to cast aside the mere outward display of religion that leaves our hearts unchanged!”
Andelot set aside his reservation and threw an arm of brotherly affection around the older man.
“My prayers will follow you wherever you go,” the pasteur said.
The pasteur then bowed his head, speaking Andelot’s name in prayer, and committed him to Christ. The experience of hearing a pasteur pray for him personally in an audible voice was altogether new, and his heart was stirred.
A few minutes later, with the pasteur accompanying him, he walked back to his horse and mounted in silence. I will come back for a longer visit . He lifted his hand in salute, and rode on toward Vendôme.
IN A BUNGALOW NEAR VENDÔME, Comte Maurice Beauvilliers fixed a withering stare on his page.
“You are most certain of this news?”
“Monseigneur, the spy discovered it from one of the duchesse’s own servants. He has ridden through the night to arrive ahead of Andelot Dangeau.”
“Send me this spy. I would hear it from him.”
“He is unconscious, my lord Comte, deep in sleep — ”
Maurice set his goblet down with a snap. “Tell me the news again.”
“Andelot was summoned to visit Duchesse Dushane. What was discussed could not be overheard, but it was about your oncle, Comte Sebastien, and Marquis Fabien. Andelot was sent with a lettre from Madame for the marquis.”
Maurice raised a lean, tanned hand and smoothed his ebony mustache; the long folds of crème lace at his wrist fell leisurely over the burgundy sleeve.
“No doubt the titled fox has protested my engagement to Rachelle. I’ll wager she has sent a reply saying she knows nothing of our upcoming marriage.”
“It would seem so, my lord Comte.”
Maurice’s heart began to pound like a battle drum. “Andelot must not deliver that lettre.”
“Men are stationed along the road to watch for him.”
I must have that lettre. In the hands of the Queen Mother it will become a millstone around Fabien’s neck. And Andelot! That serf that deigns to call me cousin. The intolerable impudence — and after spilling wine on my silk doublet in Oncle Sebastien’s appartement! I warned Andelot I would not forget, and I keep my word. Now he will pay for my insulted honor and ruined silk shirt.
“Saddle the horses. We will ride forth to meet him. I will deal with Andelot myself.”
“By now he should be nearing Vendôme. As soon as he is in sight, word will be sent.”
“I will be waiting.”
News from a Far Country
MARQUIS FABIEN, RESTIVE, MOVED ABOUT THE LARGE SALLE THAT connected to his sleeping chamber. He stepped onto the balustrade and swept a glance about the courtyard. A lavender haze settled gently across the horizon of the forest, and evening shadows lengthened.
He looked toward the tower turret. One of his watchmen stood gazing toward the road and bridge. Farther down the road, settled out of sight within the thick forest trees, he knew there would be another sentry keeping vigil, followed
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