men of culture and learning, and all scions of the noblest houses in France and Belgium. These men had been educated at the most celebrated universities, and had studied theology at the feet of Calvin.
After his meeting with the preacher, Hugo Berlaymont spent the remainder of the day in the library. At dusk, he had no difficulty in leaving the house unobserved, for his uncle was away, and the servants were too much occupied with their own affairs to watch his movements. This night expedition had about it all the coloring of a romance, and the spice of danger only deepened the fascination.
The shop of the celebrated hairdresser was brilliantly lighted, and several patrons were receiving the attentions of the tonsorial artists, when Hugo entered the door. Monsieur le Févre came forward with smiles and eloquent gestures of welcome. Yet a gleam of suspicion lurked in his eye, as he beheld the nephew of Baron Berlaymont,—the man of whom it was asserted that he had but one passion stronger than his pride, and that was his bigotry: that slavish vassal of the Church, whose fanaticism and cruelty had earned for him the title, “Tiger of Brussels.”
“How can I serve my lord?” said Monsieur, bowing obsequiously.
Hugo drew the hairdresser aside, and said in a whisper, “I desire speech with the preacher who is
