The Project Gutenberg EBook of Michel and Angele [A Ladder of Swords],
Complete, by Gilbert Parker

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Title: Michel and Angele [A Ladder of Swords], Complete

Author: Gilbert Parker

Last Updated: March 14, 2009
Release Date: October 18, 2006 [EBook #6253]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MICHEL AND ANGELE ***

Produced by David Widger

MICHEL AND ANGELE, Complete

[A Ladder of Swords]

By Gilbert Parker

INTRODUCTION

If it does not seem too childish a candour to say so, 'Michel and
Angele' always seems to me like some old letter lifted out of an ancient
cabinet with the faint perfume of bygone days upon it. Perhaps that is
because the story itself had its origin in a true but brief record of
some good Huguenots who fled from France and took refuge in England, to
be found, as the book declares, at the Walloon Church, in Southampton.

The record in the first paragraphs of the first chapter of the book
fascinated my imagination, and I wove round Michel de la Foret and
Angele Aubert a soft, bright cloud of romance which would not leave my
vision until I sat down and wrote out what, in the writing, seemed to
me a true history. It was as though some telepathy between the days
of Elizabeth and our own controlled me--self-hypnotism, I suppose;
but still, there it was. The story, in its original form, was first
published in 'Harper's Weekly' under the name of Michel and Angele, but
the fear, I think, that many people would mispronounce the first word of
the title, induced me to change it when, double in length, it became a
volume called 'A Ladder of Swords'.

As it originally appeared, I wrote it in the Island of Jersey, out at
the little Bay of Rozel in a house called La Chaire, a few yards away
from the bay itself, and having a pretty garden with a seat at its
highest point, from which, beyond the little bay, the English Channel
ran away to the Atlantic. It was written in complete seclusion. I had
no visitors; there was no one near, indeed, except the landlord of the
little hotel in the bay, and his wife. All through the Island, however,
were people whom I knew, like the Malet de Car