ion to which
bigotry and tyranny have reduced our unhappy country. The only prospect
now before us is exile, or imprisonment and death."

Nigel answered without hesitation that he felt much satisfaction in
again having the opportunity of worshipping, as he had been accustomed
to do at home, according to his conscience, and hearing the Bible read
and faithfully explained.

His host wishing him and his companion a friendly farewell, and
expressing a hope that he should see him again, they took their
departure at an early hour the next morning.

They had proceeded some distance when they entered a forest, through the
centre of which the high road passed. They had been pushing on rather
faster than usual, Maitre Leroux being anxious to get through it as soon
as possible, when they saw before them a body of soldiers. As they got
nearer they found that they were escorting a number of prisoners seated
in rough country carts, into which they were fastened with heavy chains.

"Who are these unhappy people?" inquired Nigel.

"The same we saw condemned in Paris," answered Maitre Leroux with a
sigh. "If we do not wish to share their fate we must exhibit no
sympathy for them, as the wretches who have them in charge would rejoice
to add to their number. As it will be impossible to pass them at
present, we will drop slowly behind."

"Would that I had a band of Protestant Scots with me, we would soon set
them at liberty!" exclaimed Nigel.

"Hush, hush! my friend," whispered the steward; "it becomes us not to
fight with carnal weapons; such is Dr Calvin's advice."

Just at that moment a voice exclaimed, "Brethren, remember Him who is in
heaven above!"

Some of the rear-guard immediately turned round, and with drawn swords
dashed furiously towards Nigel and Maitre Leroux, believing, evidently,
that one of them had uttered the exclamation they had heard. They both
drew up, for flight would have been useless, when, just as the troopers
had got some fifty yards from them, a man advanced from among the trees
and repeated the words in a loud tone. He was instantly seized by the
soldiers, and being dragged back along them, was thrown into one of the
carts among the other prisoners. His appearance probably saved the
lives of Nigel and his companion, for the doughty Scot had drawn his
sword, and would have fought desperately before he would have yielded
himself a prisoner.

"Pull in your rein, I entreat you," said the steward