The Story of an Angel

About a fortnight after our arrival, one evening, just as we had begun supper, someone touched my shoulder. Looking up I recognised a young lady, daughter of one of the leading bankers, to whom, a few days before, I had lent some sermons. She was wrapt from head to foot in a mantle and hastily drawing the volume from its folds said with tears:

“Here, dear brother, is your book. God be with you! You are to be carried off at midnight. Four vehicles will be waiting outside at the doors of the arsenal.”

I thanked her for coming and asked how she had obtained admission at that hour. “Never mind about my visit,” she said. “What concerns you more, dear brother, is the fact that you are about to be taken to Paris, there thrown into the horrible prison of La Tournelle and afterwards marched to Marseilles. I wished,” she added, “to announce this sad news, so that you may prepare yourselves beforehand and fortify your courage against new trials.”

She then glided away as she had come, unperceived of the guards. It was evident that this young lady must have won over the guard of the arsenal. Be this as it may, the incident occurred as I have related. We quietly finished our supper and then put our poor belongings together. Whilst thus occupied our Captain entered to smoke a pipe and chat with us as usual.

“What are you about?” he asked “Getting ready to set out at midnight,” we replied, ”you had better do the same.” “You have all lost your wits,” he said, “What could put such a notion into your heads?”
“ I tell you, I said, “at midnight four carts will await us outside the arsenal. We are to be carried to Paris, put into the prison of La Tournelle, then marched to Marseilles to join the galley-chain.”
“And I tell you,” he answered, “you are all as mad as March hares!”

Just as we were talking he was summoned by the Governor and a little while later returned, overcome with amazement, demanding whether we were prophets or wizards. “I must believe,” he added, “that it is the former and that God inspires you, for I am sure honest, pious folk like yourselves would never hold commerce with the evil one.”

“We are neither seers nor sorcerers” I replied, “and the knowledge came to us in the natural way.”
“I am puzzled out of my wits”, he said, the Governor declares that not a soul in the place knew of your removal but himself, till he gave me his orders just now. The guard has seen no one enter or leave. So whatever you may say, I shall always believe God is also with you Protestants.

Taken from the diaries of Jean Morteilhe born in 1684 in Bergerac. He was a Huguenot Christian Believer and was with many others, persecuted for his personal faith in Jesus, during the period 1700 – 1713.