I T was an evening in late autumn. Without, it was almost dark. The branches of the trees, that formed a background of no common beauty to the cottage of the Pascilins, swayed and moaned with the wind, while their leaves of many shades of green, brown, crimson and orange fell softly and silently upon the mossy carpet beneath.
Within all was bright and cheery. The children, tired out by a long ramble in the woods, were in bed and sleeping soundly. Adolf had closed the heavy wooden shutter and lighted the lamp. Annette had cleared the table, and heaped a fresh supply of pine-cones and branches upon the fire, and after drawing her spinning-wheel from the corner where it usually stood, sat down near her husband; for though it had required some persuasion on her part to induce him a second time to open the book of the heretics, he had during the day promised to do so, and she knew him to be a man who kept his word.
Perhaps it was from fear of discovery that Adolf had returned the Bible to the place beneath the hearthstone, where it had been so carefully hidden; or he may have thought that out of sight it would be out of mind, that Annette would not refer to it, and at some convenient season he would destroy it; but when reminded by her of his promise, he rose half unwillingly, raised the stone and placed the Bible upon the table, saying, as he did so, "I hope, Annette, we are not bringing trouble or sickness upon ourselves or our children by opening the heretics' book, or even keeping it in the house. If his reverence the priest were to come in he would be very angry, and order me to throw the book into the fire, and perhaps I had better do so at once.”
“O Adolf, not until you have read some of its words to me. Poor old Lena, who lives on the other side of the forest, knew Peter Hollman and his daughters quite well, and she has told me of so many kind things they did, that I should very much like to know something about their book. If it is, as we have been told, a bad book, I will say, Burn it, with all my heart; but let us first read some of its words.”
"What can you have heard from Lena that has made you so anxious to know more about the heretics?" Adolf asked with some degree of interest.
“Thirty years or more ago Lena was quite young, but she was married and had several children. They were very poor, for her husband, who was a woodman, had been hurt by the falling of a tree, and was often too ill to go to work. A fever broke out in the village: her husband was one of the first to take it, and died. Then three of her children were sick. She could not leave them to work in the fields, and had it not been for the kindness of Peter Hollman and his daughters, they would often have been without food. On one occasion, when her youngest child was not expected to live till the morning, Anna, though quite alone, crossed the dark forest at nearly midnight, carrying food and medicine, and watched with her all night by the little sufferer.”
“She must have been a brave as well as a kind-hearted girl," replied Adolf warmly. "I am no coward, but I should not myself care to cross the forest after dark; strange stories were told about it when I was a boy. But since we have got out their book we may as well read a little here and there, tomorrow will be time enough to burn it.”
As he spoke he opened the book, when to the surprise of both a neatly folded paper fell from between its pages.
“Read it, Adolf, do read it," exclaimed Annette, "perhaps it is a letter from Peter himself, and will tell us why they chose to die rather than attend mass or go to confession.”
After a few moments' silence, Adolf read the following words: "I and my daughters have heard that those who seek our lives have entered our beloved valley. We cannot seek safety in flight, so have determined to await them here. We will try to conceal this precious book from their fury. Possibly it may fall into the hands of some person who would wish to know if the words we have loved to read in life, and if the truths we have drawn from it, are enough to support us in death. I answer, never did they seem so true as now; never were they so dear, never did they possess such power to comfort the soul. They are sufficient to comfort the soul. Stranger, a voice speaks to thee from the dead! It bids thee guard with care what has been purchased for thee by the blood of martyrs. Pray that light from the Holy Spirit may beam upon it, and that thou also may be able to say in thy dying hour, 'I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight... I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.' These words, which we quote from the holy and ever-blessed Scriptures, as expressive of our own feelings, may be found in 2 Timothy 4:6-86For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. 7I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: 8Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing. (2 Timothy 4:6‑8).
"In expectation of our dying hour.
“(Signed), PETER HOLLMAN,
"ANNA HOLLMAN,
“ELOISE HOLLMAN.”
A sob burst from Annette Pascilin as this deeply touching letter was read, and the heart of her husband was strangely moved.
“What noble words!" exclaimed Adolf. "On one point I am resolved, my hands shall never cast into the flames a book which could give such comfort in life, and such peace in the prospect of a speedy and violent death.”
"Let us read it for ourselves," said Annette, "then we shall be able to judge for ourselves whether its teachings are good or bad. We need not tell any one of our discovery, but every night when the children are asleep we will read it together. I wish I could have known the Hollmans; Lena never seems tired of talking about them. She says that though they were not rich, they always seemed able to help and comfort every one in the valley who was sick or in any trouble.”
Adolf had hardly heard what Annette was saying, he had been so intent upon the newly found Bible; but new light seemed poured into his soul as he said, "Hear this, Annette, I never before saw such wonderful words," and he began to read 1 John 3:22Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is. (1 John 3:2), "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.”
“Sons of God! how simple, and yet how grand," said Adolf, "but it surely cannot mean poor peasants like ourselves. It can only be true of holy men such as priests and monks. But it is late now, tomorrow we will read more.”