It was not the regular minister who preached, but one who had but lately escaped from the house of bondage, and was able to give us the latest account of the unhappy country we had left behind. It was a sad tale of oppressive edicts, pressing always more and more severely upon our brethren; of families desolated and scattered; of temples pulled down and congregations dispersed. There were still sadder tales to be told, of abjurations and apostasies—some forced by harshness, others brought about by bribes and cajolery. Then the preacher changed his tone and spoke of midnight assemblies, like that of ours in the cellar of the old grange; of consistories held and discipline administered in caves and lonely places of the mountains, and of our fallen brethren coming, with tears and on bended knees, imploring to be restored to that communion to which to belong meant shame, imprisonment, and death. The old man's face shone and his voice rang like a trumpet as he told of these things, stirring every heart in the assembly, even mine. I felt miserably ashamed of my late frame of mind, and resolved that I would forsake the world, and live for heaven once more. The sermon was long, but it came to a close at last, and the Lord's Supper was administered. It was then that my mother discovered our two old friends. I feared at first that she would faint, but she recovered herself, and when they came to us after sermon, she was far calmer and more collected than they were. She invited them home to our lodgings, which were not far distant, and they spent the rest of the day with us. "How and when did you leave home?" was naturally the first question. "About two weeks after the house was burned, madame," answered Simon. "It is burned, then," said my mother. "Oh, yes, madame. The mob plundered it thoroughly and then set it on fire, and little is left but the shell. A fine gentleman came down from Paris a few days afterward. He was very angry at the destruction, and threatened all sorts of things if the plunder was not brought back, but he recovered very little. Our house was also set on fire, but owing to the rains it did not burn, and after a few days we ventured to return to it and gathered together some few things. I have a parcel for you, madame, intrusted to my care by Monsieur, which the wretches did not find. Our small store of ready money also escaped their hands. David, whom you know we were expecting, came just then, and we returned with him to Dieppe, and after a week or two, he found us a passage to England. As I said, we had a small store of ready money, but it soon melted away, and though, by Jeanne's skill in lace-making and mending and my own work with a market gardener, we have made shift to live, it has been poorly enough. But why should we complain? We are in safety, and can worship God according to our conscience." "But David!" said I.