Free Written on Silk by Linda Lee Chaikin

and rushed toward her.
    Rachelle stepped back cautiously.
    “A thousand pardons, Mademoiselle,” he gasped, “the grace of our Lord be with you! Forgive me for coming to you in this way, but two men were following me back at the inn. I was able to slip away unseen, but wish to take no chances.” He gave a swift bow. “I am Mathieu, a student from Geneva, where I attend Monsieur Calvin’s school of theology.”
    The student’s sober garb was familiar to her. Many Huguenot students from Geneva on their way to hold secret meetings throughout France had visited the château as a safe house through the years.
    Rachelle glanced about the darkness and saw no one else. She stepped back. “Come inside quickly, Monsieur.”
    He scrambled up the steps and ducked inside the antechamber, out of breath.
    Rachelle quietly shut the door and bolted it. She lit an oil lamp. Now that she had a clearer view of him, she could see he had been running and hiding, for his clothes were dusty.
    “You have come at a dangerous time, Monsieur Mathieu. The château may be watched by Duc de Guise’s men-at-arms. They attacked the Huguenot assembly early this morning.”
    “I had small choice, Mademoiselle. I was at the inn outside the village, prepared to stay the night, and thinking of my supper, when two men entered and sat down across the room. Soon they began to talk. They began to boast to one another of how they had attacked a group of “heretics” who met to worship the Devil, as they said. When they mentioned the Château de Silk and the Macquinet name, I was so dismayed, I almost gave myself away. I was sent here from Geneva by Monsieur Arnaut Macquinet with a lettre for his cousin, Bertrand Macquinet.”
    From her père!
    “Only by God’s good providence was I able to flee the inn unnoticed by these two soldiers. A stranger entered and boldly confronted them, demanding to know where the duc was camped. While they were occupied I slipped away.”
    Suspicion sharpened her voice. “This stranger who entered, did you hear his name?”
    “No, but there was another man with him who called him marquis.”
    Fabien! He must have been there with Gallaudet. Would he dare confront the duc? Her concerns grew.
    Mathieu removed a small sealed parchment from inside his cloak. In the light of the lamp she recognized her father’s handwriting.
    “Mademoiselle, I must deliver this to Pasteur Bertrand.”
    “Oui, bien sûr , but he was injured this morning. He was behind the teaching pulpit when a surprise attack came. I cannot promise that he will be strong enough to read my father’s message this night, as le docteur has given him a sleeping potion for suffering.”
    Mathieu’s young face fell with disappointment.
    “Is Pasteur Bertrand badly injured?”
    “We believe he will recover in time.”
    “Then God be thanked. Pasteur Bertrand has my prayers this night. Since you are Monsieur Macquinet’s daughter, I do not hesitate to tell you that the message from your father bears most important content.” He glanced around him cautiously as though from habit. “The Bibles Pasteur Bertrand wishes to smuggle out of France are even now awaiting his arrival. It is crucial that he act at once.”
    In his condition? What would have been bonne news before the events of the morning, now presented a dilemma. Bertrand was unable to leave his bed.
    She was also surprised to hear that the Bibles were already printed. On that very morning Bertrand had said that her father might need to remain in Geneva for another month.
    “Mathieu, are you certain? Bertrand does not yet expect the Bibles.”
    “Monsieur Macquinet was able to find another printer in Geneva to do the work posthaste. The Bibles are now stored in a private warehouse at Calais, guarded by Monsieur Macquinet — ”
    “Calais? But he was to bring them here to Lyon.”
    “That was the intention, Mademoiselle, until it was learned le duc may have knowledge of the Macquinet work in Geneva.