In the street, Elsie Méril heard of Victor's arrest, and she brought the news to Jacqueline. They had returned to Meaux, to their old lodging, and a day had passed, during which, moment by moment, his arrival was anticipated. Elsie went out to buy a gift for Jacqueline, a bit of fine apparelling which she had coveted from the moment she knew Jacqueline should be a bride. She stole away on her errand without remark, and came back with the gift,but also with that which made it valueless, unmentionable, though it was a costly offering, purchased with the wages of more than a week's labor in the fields.
It was almost dark when she returned to Jacqueline. Her friend was sitting by the window,waiting,not for her; and when she went in to her, it was silently, with no mention of her errand or her love-gift. Quietly she sat down, thankful that the night was falling, waiting for its darkness before she should speak words which would make the darkness to be felt.
"He does not come," said Jacqueline, at length.
"Did you think it was he, when I came up the stairs?" inquired Elsie, tenderly.
"Oh, no! I can tell your step from all the rest."
"His, too, I think."
"Yes, and his, too. My best friends. Strange, if I could not!"
"Oh, I'm glad you said that, Jacqueline!"
"My best friends," repeated Jacqueline,not merely to please Elsie. Love had opened wide her heart,and Elsie, weak and foolish though she might be,Elsie, her old companion, her playmate, her fellow-laborer,Elsie, who should be to her a sister always, and share in her good-fortune,Elsie had honorable place there.
"Could anything have happened, Jacqueline?" said Elsie, trembling: her tremulous voice betrayed it.
"Oh, I think not," was the answer.
"But he is so fearless,he might have fallen intointo trouble."
"What have you heard, Elsie?"
This question was quietly asked, but it struck to the heart of the questioned girl. Jacqueline suspected!and yet Jacqueline asked so calmly! Jacqueline could hear it,and yet how could this be declared?
Her hesitation quickened what was hardly suspicion into a conviction.
"What have you heard?" Jacqueline again questioned,not so calmly as before; and yet it was quite calmly, even to the alarmed ear of Elsie Méril.
"They have arrested Victor, Jacqueline."
"For heresy?"
"I heard it in the street."
Jacqueline arose,she crossed the chamber,her hand was on the latch.
Instantly Elsie stood beside her.
"What will you do? I must go with you, Jacqueline."
"Where will you go?" said Jacqueline.
"With you. Wait,what is it you will do? Or,no matter, go on, I will follow you,and take the danger with you."
"Is there danger? For him there is! and there might be for you,but none for me. Stay, Elsie. Where shall I go, in truth?"
Yet she opened the door, and began to descend the stairs even while she spoke; and Elsie followed her.
First to the house of the wool-comber. John was not at home,and his mother could tell them nothing, had heard nothing of the arrest of Victor. Then to the place which Victor had pointed out to her as the home of Mazurier. Mazurier likewise they failed to find. Where, then, was the prison of Le Roy's captivity? That no man could tell them; so they came home to their lodging at length in the dark night, there to wait through endless-seeming hours for morning.
On the Sunday they had chosen for their wedding-day Mazurier brought word of Victor to Jacqueline,was really a messenger, as he announced himself, when she opened for him the door of her room in the fourth story of the great lodging-house. He had come on that day with a message; but it was not in all thingsin little beside the love it was meant to provethe message Victor had desired to convey. In want of more faithful, more trustworthy messenger, Le Roy sent word by this man of his arrest,and bade Jacqueline pray for him, and come to him, if that were possible. He desired, he said, to serve his Master,and, of all things, sought the Truth.
To go to the prisoner, Mazurier assured Jacqueline, was impossible, but she might send a message; indeed, he was here to serve his dear friends. Ah, poor girl, did she trust the man by whom she sent into a prison words like these?
"Hold fast to the faith that is in you, Victor. Let nothing persuade you that you have been mistaken. We asked for light,it was given us,let us walk in it; and no matter where it leads,since the light is from heaven. Do not think of me,nor of yourself,but only of Jesus Christ, who said, 'Whosoever would save his life shall lose it.'"
Mazurier took this message. What did he do with it? He tossed it to the winds.
A week after, Le Roy was brought to trial,and recanted; and so recanting, was acquitted and set at liberty.
Mazurier supposed that he meant all kindly in the exertion he made to save his friend. He would never have ceased from self-reproach, had he conveyed the words of Jacqueline to Victor,for the effect of those words he could clearly foresee.
And so far from attempting to bring about an interview between the pair, he would have striven to prevent it, had he seen a probability that it would be allowed. He set little value on such words as Jacqueline spoke, when her conscience and her love rose up against each other. The words she had committed to him he could account for by no supposition acceptable and reasonable to him. There was something about the girl he did not understand; she was no fit guide for a man who had need of clear judgment, when such a decision was to be made as the court demanded of Le Roy.
Elsie Méril, between hope and fear, was dumb in these days; but her presence and her tenderness, though not heroic in action nor wise in utterance, had a value of which neither she nor Jacqueline was fully aware.
When Jacqueline learned the issue of the trial, and that Victor had falsified his faith, her first impulse was to fly, that she might never see his face again. For, the instant she heard his choice, her heart told her what she had been hoping during these days of suspense. She had tried to see Martial Mazurier, but without success, since he conveyed, or promised to convey, her message to the prisoner. Of purpose he had avoided her. He guessed what strength she would by this time have attained, and he was determined to save both to each other, though it might be against their will.
XI
Victor Le Roy's first endeavor, on being liberated, wasof course to find Jacqueline? Not so. That was far from his first design. His impulse was to avoid the girl he had dared to love. Mazurier had, indeed, conveyed to his mind an impression that would have satisfied him, if anything of this character could do so. But this was impossible. The secret of his disquiet was far too profound for such easy removal.
He had not in himself the witness that he had fulfilled the will of God. He was disquieted, humiliated, wretched. He could not think of Leclerc, nor upon his protestations, except with shame and remorse,remorse, already. In his heart, in spite of the impression Mazurier had contrived to convey, he believed not that Jacqueline would bless him to such work as he could henceforth perform, no longer a free man,no longer possessed of liberty of speech and thought.
He had no sooner renounced his liberty than he became persuaded, by an overwhelming reasoning, as he had never been convinced before, of the pricelessness of that he had sacrificed. When he went from the court-room, from the presence of his judges, he was not a free man, though the dignitaries called him so. Martial Mazurier walked arm in arm with him, but the world was a den of horrors, a blackened and accursed world, to the young man who came from prison, free to use his freedomas the priests directed!
He went home from the prison with Mazurier. The world had conquered. Love had conquered,Love, that in the conquest felt itself disgraced. He had sold the divine, he had received the human: it was the old pottage speculation over again. This privilege of liberty from his dungeon had looked so fair!but now it seemed so worthless! This prospect of life so priceless in contemplation of its loss,oh, the beggar who crept past him was an enviable man, compared with young Victor Le Roy, the heir of love and riches, the heir of liberty and life!
Yes,he went home with Mazurier. Where else should he go? Congratulations attended him. He was compelled to receive them with a countenance not too sombre, and a grace not all thankless, ororthey would say it was of cowardice he had saved his precious body from the sentence of the judges, and given his precious LIFE up to the sentence of the JUDGE.
Yes,Martial took him home. There they might talk at leisure of those things,and ask a blessing on the testimony of Jesus, made and kept by them!
Victor Le Roy was too proud to complain now. He assented to all the preacher's sophistry. He allowed himself to be cheered. But this was no such evening as had been spent in the room of the wool-comber, when Leclerc's voice, strong, even through his weakness, called on God, and blessed and praised Him, and the spirit conquered the flesh gloriously,the old mother of Leclerc sharing his joy, as she had also shared his anguish. Here was no Jacqueline to say to Victor, "Thou hast done well! 'Glory be to Jesus Christ, and His witnesses!'"
Mazurier thanked God for the deliverance of His servant! He dedicated himself and Victor anew to the service of Truth, which they had shrunk from defending! And his eloquence and fervor seemed to stamp the words with sincerity. He seemed not in the least to suspect or fear himself.
With Victor Le Roy such self-deception, such sophistry, was simply impossible.
* * * * *Not of purpose did he meet Jacqueline that night. She had heard that Le Roy was at liberty, and alone now she applied at the door of Martial Mazurier for admittance, but in vain. The master had signified that his evening was not to be interrupted. Therefore she returned, from waiting near his door, to the street where she and Elsie lived.
Should her woman's pride have led her to her lofty lodging, and kept her there without a sign, till Victor himself came seeking her? She knew nothing of such pride,but much of love; and her love took her back to the post where she had waited many an hour since that disastrous arrest: she would wait there till morning, if she must,at least, till one should enter, or come forth, who might tell her of Victor Le Roy.
The light in the preacher's study she could see from the door-step in a court-yard where she waited. Should Mazurier come with Victor, she would let them pass; but if Victor came alone, she had a right to speak.
It was after midnight when the student came down from the preacher's study. She heard his voice when the door opened,by the street-lamp saw his face. And she recognized also the voice of Mazurier, who, till the last moment of separation, seemed endeavoring to dissuade his friend from leaving him that night.
He heard footsteps following him, as he passed along the pavement,observed that they gained on him. And could it be any other than Jacqueline who touched his arm, and whispered, "Victor"?
His fast-beating heart told him it was she. He took her hand, and drew it within his arm, and looked upon her face,the face of his Jacqueline.
"Now where?" said he. "It is late. It is after midnight. Why are you alone in the street?"
"Waiting for you, Victor. I heard you were at liberty, and I supposed you were with him. I was safe."
"Yes,for you fear nothing. That is the only reason. You knew I was with the preacher, Jacqueline. Why? Becausebecause I am with him, of course."
"Yes," she said. "I heard it was so, Victor."
"Strange!strange!is it not? A prison is a better place to learn the truth than the pure air of liberty, it seems," said he, bitterly.
"What is that?" she asked. She seemed not to understand his meaning.
"Nothing. I am acquitted of heresy, you know. It seems, what we talked so bravely meantnothing. Oh, I am safe, now!"
"It was to preach none the less,to hold the truth none the less. But if he lost his life, there was an end of all; or if he lost his liberty, it was as bad. But he would keep both, and serve God so," said Jacqueline.
"Yes," cried Victor, "precisely what he said. I have said the same, you think?"
"If you are quite clear that Leclerc and the rest of us are all wrong, Victor."
"Jacqueline!"
"What is it, Victor?"
"'The rest of us,' you say. What would you have done in my place?"
"God knows. I pretend not to know anything more."
"But 'the rest of us,' you said. You think that you at least are with Leclerc?"
"That was the truth you taught me, Victor. ButI have not yet been tried."
"That is safe to say. What makes you speak so prudently, Jacqueline? Why do you not declare, 'Though all men deny Thee, yet will I never deny Thee'? Ah, you have not been tried! You are not yet in danger of the judgment, Jacqueline!"
"Do not speak so; you frighten me; it is not like you. How can I tell? I do not know but in this retirement, in this thought you have been compelled to, you have obtained more light than any one can have until he comes to just such a place."
"Ah, Jacqueline, why not say to me what you are thinking? Have you lost your courage? Say, 'Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God.'"
"No,oh, no! How could I say it, my poor Victor? How do you know?"
"Surely you cannot know, as you say. But from where you stand, that is what you are thinking. Jacqueline, confess! If you should speak your mind, it would be, 'Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God, poor coward!' Oh, Jacqueline, Mazurier may deceive himself! I speak not for him; but what will you do with your poor Victor, my poor Jacqueline?"
She did not linger in the answer,she did not sob or tremble,he was by her side.
"Love him to the end. As He, when He loved His own."
"Your own, poor girl? No, no!"
"You gave yourself to me," she answered straightway, with resolute firmness clinging to the all she had.
"I was a man then," he answered. "But I will never give a liar and a coward to Jacqueline Gabrie. Everything but myself, Jacqueline! Take the old words, and the old memory. But for this outcast, him you shall forget. My God! thou hast not brought this brave girl from Domrémy, and lighted her heart with a coal from Thine altar, that she should turn from Thee to me! If you love a liar and a coward, Jacqueline, you cannot help yourself,he will make you one, too. And what I loved you for was your truth and purity and courage. I have given you a treasure which was greater than I could keep.Where is it that you live now, Jacqueline? I am not yet such a poltroon that I am afraid to conduct you. I think that I should have the courage to protect you to-night, if you were in any immediate danger. Come, lead the way."
"No," said Jacqueline. "I am not going home. I could not sleep; and a roof over my headany save God's heavenwould suffocate me, I believe."
"Go, then, as you will. But where?"
Jacqueline did not answer, but walked quietly on; and so they passed beyond the city-borders to the river-bank,far away into the country, through the fields, under the light of stars and of the waning moon.
"If I had been true!" said Victor,"if I had not listened to him! But him I will not blame. For why should I blame him? Am I an idiot? And his influence could not have prevailed, had I not so chosen, when I stood before my judges and they questioned me. No,I acquit Mazurier. Perhaps what I have denied never appeared to him so glorious as it did once to me; and so he was guiltless at least of knowing what it was I did. But I knew. And I could not have been deceived for a moment. No,I think it impossible that for a moment I should have been deceived. They would have made a notable example of me, Jacqueline. I am rich,I am a student.Oh, yes! Jesus Christ may die for me, and I accept the benefit; but when it comes to suffering for His sake,you could not have expected that of such a poltroon, Jacqueline! We may look for it in brave men like Leclerc, whose very living depends on their ability to earn their bread,to earn it by daily sweat; but men who need not toil, who have leisure and education,of course you would not expect such testimony to the truth of Jesus from them! Bishop Briconnet recants,and Martial Mazurier; and Victor Le Roy is no braver man, no truer man than these!"