He had remained several minutes thus absorbed in thought, and prayerfully abstracted in spirit, when suddenly a low and peculiar noise was heard close to the window. It roused him from his reverie, and he quickly lifted his eyes. Again the sound met his ear, and immediately he rose, and going to the door, looked abroad, and uttered a signal cry, responsive to the one he had heard. “It is Philebert Hamelin,” he exclaimed, and the next instant his friend stood beside him. Most heartily did Palissy receive his unexpected visitor, and bade him welcome to his lowly roof, where he might be in safety, seeing its owner was then under the patronage of Sire Antoine, who had commanded that the premises of the potter should be held inviolate from all intrusion. After discharging the duties of hospitality, and seeing the wants of his guest supplied, Bernard seated himself beside Hamelin, and the two fell into long and earnest discourse. They spoke, as was natural, first of the domestic circumstances of Palissy, and of the bereavement that now weighed heavily upon him. It was the sixth of his children from whom he had been called to part in their tender age, and his spirit was cast down within him. Hamelin, who had a soul full of tender sensibilities, felt his eyes fill with tears as he listened to the sorrows of his friend, and lovingly sought to comfort him. After a time he inquired for the two boys, Nicole and Mathurin, who were the sole survivors of so numerous a family. “They are grown tall and hearty, and will soon take their part in the workshop,” said Palissy. “The younger is a sharp wit. Certain monks of the Sorbonne were sent, last summer, into this town and many others of the diocese, to win over the people to allow their woods to be cut down for the king’s pleasure. They made strange gestures and grimaces, and all their discourses were nothing but outcry against the new Christians. It chanced that one of them, as he was preaching, taught how it behoved men to purchase heaven by their good works; but Mathurin, who stood there listening, exclaimed, ‘That’s blasphemy! for the Bible tells us that Christ purchased heaven by his sufferings and death, and bestows it on us freely by his mercy.’ He spoke so loud that many heard, and some disturbance ensued. Happily, Victor was near by, and he sheltered the lad, who might otherwise have paid dearly for his unadvised utterance.” “In good truth,” said Master Philebert, “it was a perilous deed, and these are fearful times. When a child of fifteen is not deemed too young for the stake, when young maidens have been stabbed for their singing, and fellow-tradesmen broken on the wheel for exercising liberty of conscience, then it is no marvel if our children, being taught the truths of God’s word, should exchange their youthfulness of manner for a manly fortitude, and should be ready sternly to sing their hymns in the free air of heaven.”