The Refugees

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Arthur Conan Doyle. The Refugees

Part I. In the old world

Chapter I. The man from America

Chapter II. A Monarch in Deshabille

Chapter III. The holding of the door

Chapter IV. The father of his people

Chapter V. Children of Belial

Chapter VI. A house of strife

Chapter VII. The new world and the old

Chapter VIII. The rising sun

Chapter IX. Le roi s'amuse

Chapter X. An eclipse at Versailles

Chapter XI. The sun reappears

Chapter XII. The king receives

Chapter XIII. The king has ideas

Chapter XIV. The last card

Chapter XV. The midnight mission

Chapter XVI. "When the devil drives."

Chapter XVII. The dungeon of Portillac

Chapter XVIII. A night of surprises

Chapter XIX. In the king's cabinet

Chapter XX. The two Francoises

Chapter XXI. The man in the Caleche

Chapter XXII. The scaffold of Portillac

Chapter XXIII. The fall of the Catinats

Part II. In the new world

Chapter XXIV. The start of the "Golden Rod."

Chapter XXV. A boat of the dead

Chapter XXVI. The last port

Chapter XXVII. A dwindling island

Chapter XXVIII. In the pool of Quebec

Chapter XXIX. The voice at the Port-Hole

Chapter XXX. The inland waters

Chapter XXXI. The hairless man

Chapter XXXII. The Lord of Sainte Marie

Chapter XXXIII. The slaying of Brown Moose

Chapter XXXIV. The men of blood

Chapter XXXV. The tapping of death

Chapter XXXVI. The taking of the stockade

Chapter XXXVII. The coming of the friar

Chapter XXXVIII. The dining hall of Sainte Marie

Chapter XXXIX. The two swimmers

Chapter XL. The end

Note on the Huguenots and their dispersion

Note on the future of Louis…

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It was the sort of window which was common in Paris about the end of the seventeenth century. It was high, mullioned, with a broad transom across the centre, and above the middle of the transom a tiny coat of arms – three caltrops gules upon a field argent – let into the diamond-paned glass. Outside there projected a stout iron rod, from which hung a gilded miniature of a bale of wool which swung and squeaked with every puff of wind. Beyond that again were the houses of the other side, high, narrow, and prim, slashed with diagonal wood-work in front, and topped with a bristle of sharp gables and corner turrets. Between were the cobble-stones of the Rue St. Martin and the clatter of innumerable feet.

Inside, the window was furnished with a broad bancal of brown stamped Spanish leather, where the family might recline and have an eye from behind the curtains on all that was going forward in the busy world beneath them. Two of them sat there now, a man and a woman, but their backs were turned to the spectacle, and their faces to the large and richly furnished room. From time to time they stole a glance at each other, and their eyes told that they needed no other sight to make them happy.

.....

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I have to go, and she might need a protector."

.....