The Waldenses (4)

Spring! James went outside and sniffed the air. It had a promising smell. It was so fresh and crisp!

He looked at the high mountain tops around the valley. He was always in awe when he saw those massive rocky peaks, with their white-capped tops pointing to the heavens.

Switzerland was a beautiful country. He was glad they had moved here. They had built a small but convenient house. There were barns and pastures for the cows and sheep. Their house was on a slope, so he could look far over the valley. There were other houses, too. Most of these people he had known in France. They were all Waldenses, who had fled for their lives.

He sighed with contentment. Here, at least, the soldiers would not come. Here the people could worship the Lord as they wanted. They even had built a little church already. There they gathered together on Sundays and listened to the preaching.

This Sunday, a preacher from France would come. He traveled from place to place to bring God’s Word to the scattered Waldenses. He always had to be very careful, for every day there was the danger that the soldiers would capture him.

“I am daydreaming!” James grinned to himself. “I had better start my chores.”

From the house he heard a wailing cry. Ah, that was his little baby brother, Hank, who had been born a few months ago. Oh, well, Lisa was there to help Mom. She would take care of the baby. She liked to do that.

He walked to the barn to help his father.

“There were some strangers in the valley today,” Father told Mother that night. “I don’t know —”

Mother looked at him inquisitively. “Don’t know what?” she repeated. “There are not so many strangers who come here. Why did they come?”

Father shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. They said they came to look at the cattle. They wanted to trade. But the strangest thing was that when they walked along the road, they did not even look at the cattle. They just looked everywhere else and tried to talk to people.”

“Don’t you trust them?”

“No, I don’t,” Father said, and he looked uneasy.

“What could they do to us here?”

Father gave a deep sigh. “We fled here, thinking we would be safe. But I had better tell the whole story. The Pope is a mighty man. He has already sent his soldiers to some other valleys.”

James saw that his mother’s face grew pale. She held Hank and pressed the little boy against her breast.

“Then we’ll have to keep our eyes and ears wide open,” she said, and she looked at James.

Father nodded. “We surely have to,” he said. “And we will. I spoke to a few neighbors today. They had heard the rumors, too, and they told me that those soldiers came when all the people were gathered in the church. They had an easy prey that way. So now we decided to listen to the preacher in the open field on this coming Sunday. The weather is nice, and we don’t want to take any chances.”

Sunday was rapidly approaching. The whole week James and his father had been busy outside, repairing fences, tending the cattle, and planting a vegetable garden. Mother really wanted a garden.

“I would like to grow my own vegetables,” she had said. “They’re healthy and cheap.”

And now it was Sunday morning. The Waldenses in the valley made themselves ready to go to church. They put on their neat, simple Sunday clothes. Some people had a portion of the Bible, translated into their own language. They took that along, too. The boys and girls walked together, and the little ones held the hands of their fathers and mothers.

No, this time they did not go to the little white church in the center of the valley. In a long row they passed the house where James and Lisa lived and walked up a little path that wound up the side of the mountain. They knew the way. They went to a meadow, high above the valley, where they were hidden from view. All around that meadow, huge rocks made a natural wall.

James watched the people going up the slope. He wasn’t going with them. In a way he regretted that. He also would have liked to hear the preaching. It was so nice when the preachers explained words from the Bible. He liked that. Now, however, he had to watch the little path where all the people went. He also had to watch his surroundings. That was easy from this point. He could look far over the valley.

“Maybe it is not necessary, but I feel that we may not be careless,” Father had said. “Let us take turns and watch.”

James was the first one. He felt proud that Father regarded him as one of the men of the valley.

The last people had walked past, and it was quiet. James settled down at a spot where he could see everything, and he took up one of the booklets that Father left behind for him. At least he still could read. And tonight he would hear the preaching; then someone else would watch.

After every other text he looked up and scanned the valley and his surroundings. Everything was so quiet. Maybe his father was a little over-cautious.

He yawned and looked over the valley again. The sun was high now, and he had to shield his eyes from the bright rays.

Suddenly he sat up with a jolt. What was that?

In the distance he saw a cloud of dust coming down from another mountain. Was that — was that really —?

Some rays of sun reflected and glinted off something — of metal! Now he was sure! Soldiers were coming!

There was no time to think now. He had to run!

His feet hardly touched the rocky ground of the little path. He knew exactly where to go. He panted as he climbed as fast as he could.

Another little path — he had to bear to the left. Now it was not far anymore! He felt a pain in his left side, but he pressed on. He had to warn the people! They had to flee! But where could they go? Ah, his father would know!

Another meadow. He had to cross that one and then — yes, he could hear something.

He rounded a corner and climbed over a few huge rocks. That was the entrance, he knew. And there were the people, quietly standing and listening to the preacher.

They heard him coming, and they turned around.

“Flee!” he cried. “The soldiers are coming! Flee!”

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