aded by the
three Consuls, each with a serjeant bearing a white rod in front and
a scarlet mantle, and the Consuls themselves in long robes with wide
sleeves of quartered black and scarlet, followed by six halberdiers,
likewise in scarlet, blazoned with the shield of the city--gules, a
golden willow-tree, pollarded and shedding its branches, a chief azure
with the three _fleur-de-lys_ of royalty. As little Rayonette gleefully
pointed at the brilliant pageant, Eustacie could not help saying, rather
bitterly, that these _messieurs_ seemed to wish to engross all the gay
colours from heaven and earth from themselves; and Maitre Isaac could
not help thinking she had some right on her side as he entered the
church once gorgeous with jasper, marbles, and mosaics, glowing with
painted glass, resplendent with gold and jewels, rich with paintings
and draperies of the most brilliant dyes; but now, all that was, soiled,
dulled, defaced; the whole building, even up to the end of the
chancel, was closely fitted with benches occupied by the 'sad-coloured'
congregation. Isaac was obliged by a strenuous effort of memory to
recall 'Ne-hushtan' and the golden calves, before he could clear from
his mind, 'Now they break down all the carved work thereof with axes
and with hammers.' But, then, did not the thorough going Reformers think
Master Isaac a very weak and back-sliding brother?

Nevertheless, in right of his age, his former reputation, and his
sufferings, his place was full in the midst of the square-capped,
black-robed ministers who sat herded on a sort of platform together,
to address the Almighty and the congregation in prayers and discourses,
interspersed with psalms sung by the whole assembly. There was no
want of piety, depth, force, or fervour. These were men refined by
persecution, who had struggled to the light that had been darkened by
the popular system, and, having once been forced into foregoing their
scruples as to breaking the unity of the Church, regarded themselves
even as apostles of the truth. Listening to them, Isaac Gardon felt
himself rapt into the hopes of cleansing the aspirations of universal
re-integration that had shone before his early youth, ere the Church
had shown herself deaf, and the Reformers in losing patience had lost
purity, and disappointment had crushed him into an aged man.

He was recalled by the echo of a gay, little inarticulate cry--those
baby tones that had become such music to his ears t