Page 197 of A Column of Fire
‘I make it myself. That’s why it’s so cheap – though it’s very good.’
He compared her prices with what he usually paid and found that she was, indeed, cheap, so he gave her an order.
‘I’ll bring everything today,’ she said. Then she lowered her voice. ‘Do you have the Bible in French?’
Ned was astonished. Could this respectable-looking young woman be involved in illicit literature? ‘It’s against the law!’
She responded calmly. ‘But breaking the law no longer carries the death penalty, according to the Peace of St Germain.’
She was talking about the agreement that had resulted from the peace conference Ned and Walsingham had been sent to in St Germain, so Ned knew the details well. The treaty gave the Huguenots limited freedom of worship. For Ned, a Catholic country that tolerated Protestants was as good as a Protestant country that tolerated Catholics: it was the freedom that counted. However, freedom was fragile. France had had peace treaties before, all of them short-lived. The famously inflammatory Paris preachers ranted against every attempt at conciliation. This one was supposed to be sealed by a marriage – the king’s rackety sister, Princess Margot, was engaged to the easy-going Henri of Bourbon, Protestant king of Navarre – but eighteen months later the wedding still had not taken place. Ned said: ‘The peace treaty could be abandoned, and any day there could be a surprise crackdown on people like you.’
‘It probably wouldn’t be a surprise.’ Ned was about to ask why not, but she did not give him the chance. She went on: ‘And I think I can trust you. You’re Elizabeth’s envoy, so you must be Protestant.’
‘Why do you ask?’ Ned said cautiously.
‘If you want a French Bible, I can get you one.’
Ned was amazed by her nerve. And as it happened, he did want a French Bible. He spoke the language well enough to pass as a native but sometimes, in conversation, he did not catch the biblical quotations and allusions that Protestants used all the time, and he had often thought he should read the better-known chapters to familiarize himself with the translation. As a foreign diplomat, he would not get into much trouble for owning the book, in the unlikely event that he was found out. ‘How much?’ he said.
‘I have two editions, both printed in Geneva: a standard one that is a bargain at two livres, and a beautifully bound volume in two colours of ink with illustrations for seven livres. I can bring them both to show you.’
‘All right.’
‘I see you’re going out – to the Louvre, I suppose, in that beautiful coat.’
‘Yes.’
‘Will you be back for your dinner?’
‘Probably.’ Ned felt bemused. She had taken control of the conversation. All he did was agree to what she proposed. She was forceful, but so frank and engaging that he could not be offended.
‘I’ll bring your stationery then, and two Bibles so that you can choose the one you prefer.’
Ned did not think he had actually committed himself to buying one, but he let that pass. ‘I look forward to seeing them.’
‘I’ll be back this afternoon.’
Her coolness was impressive. ‘You’re very brave,’ Ned commented.
‘The Lord gives me strength.’
No doubt he did, Ned thought, but she must have had plenty to start with. ‘Tell me something,’ he said, taking the conversational initiative at last. ‘How did you come to be a dealer in contraband books?’
‘My father was a printer. He was burned as a heretic in 1559, and all his possessions were forfeit, so my mother and I were destitute. All we had was a few Bibles he had printed.’
‘So you’ve been doing this for thirteen years?’
‘Almost.’
Her courage took Ned’s breath away. ‘During most of that period, you could have been executed, like your father.’
‘Yes.’
‘But surely you could live innocently, selling just paper and ink.’
‘We could, but we believe in people’s right to read God’s word for themselves and make up their own minds about what is the true gospel.’
Ned believed in that, too. ‘And you’re willing to risk your life for that principle.’ He did not mention that if caught she would undoubtedly have been tortured before being executed.
